First Words

They say that when you've met one child with autism...you've met one child with autism (though I wanted to let my Hillcroft friends know that a child's love for "spaghetti arms" is universal :).

I had the privilege of being taught at a very young age that every individual has significant worth in this world and deserves, regardless of abilities or disabilities, to be listed to. Among the defining diagnostic criteria of autism are impairments in communication and social interaction. A combination of being around children with limited verbal skills and just the experience of being exposed to the poverty of India has been a constant reminder of how easily it has been for me in life to get what I want--a privilege that many of these individuals do not experience. One of the most salient questions in my mind since my first day at Ashish has been, "Why me?"...and "Why them?" Why have I been born into a family with parents who have so graciously made sure that, in life, I've lacked nothing. I certainly didn't do anything to deserve it. And further, why have these children been burdened with so much poverty and so suffering? They definitely don't deserve that either.

Although these questions have overwhelmed my heart I have felt such peace in recognizing that God is so present in this place. This love is evident in the infectious giggles that resound from the classroms, and the warm embrace between children and students, and in the sweet voices of students seeing during their daily morning assembly. These children have been loved in the most beautiful way.

I've been dying to introduce you to one my favorite little cuties here at the centre. We'll call her "B."

I don't know much about her background, besides that she is about 8 years old, lives in the slum community in which the centre is located, and she has autism. She is nonverbal and I've been told that she currently has no words or signs to communicate. She LOVES music (her favorite is the Wheels on the Bus) and will hum along, doing all the actions while others sing to her. I was first approached by her teacher, who expressed concern that she is having noncompliant behaviors at school. Not surprising--many kinds who have no means of communicating engage in high rates of problem behaviors. As I got to know B, I watched from the sidelines at first, noting how her teacher was so invested in B and had identified some of B's interests. When I finally got the chance to sit and work with her, it was obvious within minutes that this mischevious and squirrely little kiddo was a very smart little lady. I quickly learned that she likes being tickled, singing, and to be out of her seat and on the go. However, I discovered the ticket to teaching B to communicate when I brought her into the courtyard, picked her up, and began spinning her around...her beautiful smile and adorable giggle made it known that she wanted more. When I put her down, she grabbed my arms and wrapped them around herself, indicating that she wanted me to spin her again. But before doing so, I took her little fingers in my hands and showed her how to sign "spin." Over and over again we did this, starting and stopping and prompting her to sign "spin." After less than 5 minutes, something clicked for her and she hesitantly held up her right index finger to begin to sign "spin." I truly felt a parental sense of pride at this moment and felt such joy as I watched B "speak" her very first word. I can't imagine the freedom of getting to express what you want after a life of being unheard. In the next few days, she proved to be quite the smarty pants, and by day 2, she  was signing "sing" "spin" "drink" "up" and "go." Her teachers squealed and cheered when they watched B use her very first words. The sense of excitement from this seemingly small milestone has, alone, made this experience so worth it.